He took a long sip of his beer while keeping his rich, espresso eyes focused on me, silently contemplating the questions he wasn’t sure he should ask. “So . . . I haven’t seen you around and yet you know Joe?”
“He’s a friend of the family,” I answered honestly and pressed the bottle to my lips, avoiding the disclosure of a complicated genealogy. My eyes cut over to the table where his friends sat and then back to him. “Did you guys have a game tonight?”
“We did.”
When he didn’t elaborate, I prompted, “Did you win?”
“What do you think?” His words were cocky, but his smile was genuine, and my heart pitter-pattered in my chest. Levi Montgomery was even more handsome up close. Striking features that made all walks of women lose their common sense. The chiseled jaw, plump bottom lip, and even if it wasn’t fitted, I knew by the outline of his gray T-shirt that his body was a well-defined, well cared for work of art.
What professional athlete wasn’t?
“Do you go to the games at all?” he asked with interest.
“Not since I was about fourteen or fifteen.”
“What about a favorite team?”
“Nope,” I fabricated, enjoying the banter.
“Not even your hometown team?” It was cute how he feigned offense.
I shook my head and shrugged faux apologetically. It wouldn’t do anyone any good disclosing a favorite team that wasn’t your home team and to the man who played the sport professionally.
“That’s a shame.” He gave me an easy smile, softening his comment.
It’s not that I didn’t enjoy a good old game of baseball; I didn’t have much time for it anymore. Work had become demanding and didn’t leave room for much else, other than the rare and occasional after-hours drink.
“You should come down and check out our next home game.”
“Maybe I will.” I won’t.
Sitting so close, my attention heeding the deep rasp in his voice, my body started to hum and tingles thrilled me in areas that would be deemed inappropriate while in a highly populated public place. My fast-approaching appetite turned into wanting to learn all there was about him—from him, not something someone had said or an article I had read. I was aiming for firsthand knowledge.
What also helped was that he made no point in hiding that he was checking me out. The proof was there in the subtle way his eyes wandered the expanse of my face and stalled on my lips. How they would amble lower when I laughed at something funny he had said. Or the occasional shift in his posture. All the cues from our body language and quiet flirting making the palpable attraction between us sizzle.
And with those surfacing thoughts, my overthinking mind began arranging ways to politely make my exit. Only to have it come up inconveniently blank. And suddenly, I didn’t want to leave. Instead, I came to the conclusion that uncovering the assumed “V” just inches below the waist of his jeans was the road I wanted to venture down.
Even though I knew I shouldn’t.
“So,” he started but stopped, taking a pull of his drink. He slid the bottle on the table and leaned in a little closer, resting his elbows on the tabletop. “I noticed you had company earlier.”
I couldn’t contain my smile, thinking about my recent accomplishment. “I got a promotion today. Kelsey and I came to have a celebratory drink.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” My cheeks warmed.
“Do you mind me asking what for?”
“Senior project manager.” Proud of my accomplishment, I squared my shoulders a tiny bit.
“Sweet. What is it you do?”
“I’m a civil engineer.”
“Beauty and brains, I like it.”
His comment didn’t give me the initial reaction I would have hoped for. Was he insinuating it was an accomplishment for a beautiful woman to have brains as well? But not wanting to make a big deal out of it, I let it slide. We finished our beers over more small talk, and after about twenty minutes in, I startlingly felt a connection to this man, which in turn justified why I had agreed to take it back to his place.
“Is it too noisy in here for you?” He spoke over the crowd.
“A little.”
“You wanna get out of here?” He set his empty bottle and some cash on the table.
This is so wrong.
You know better.
This is not going to end well. And you know it!
I nodded and took a final gulp.
The moment he laid his hand on the small of my back, it seemed as if all eyes were on us. As if the conversations in the room had died to hushed murmurs so everyone could scrutinize and whisper as they placed their bets on the player. Weighing the odds of whether or not they thought he was going to score.
Then again, it was probably a case of nerves. Going home with a man I had just met was not common practice for me, let alone engaging in a one-night stand. And surely that’s all it was. One night—nothing more. And this would probably be the only chance I ever had to be with someone like him.
I nudged the annoying thoughts aside and concentrated on the electrifying energy bolting through me. How his powerful touch warmed me from the inside out, encouraging a welcomed shiver to ripple down my spine.
And by the way the tips of his fingers dug into my hip, I knew he was feeling it too.
“I’m right over there.” I peered over my shoulder while pointing to my car.
He nodded and led us toward the left, not too far from his truck. The special license plate embossed with the number sixteen and the club-exclusive Atlanta Bucks frame gave it all away.
“You can hop in with me if you like. We can come back for your car later.”
“I think it’s better if I drive.” I couldn’t risk the possibility of being stranded. This may not be a smart move on my part, but I wasn’t an idiot.
We stopped next to my car and a huge dose of reality kicked in. Was I actually considering going home with him? I was far from naïve and knew if I met him at his house, one thing would lead to another and there was no question the night would end with us having sex. It was a reckless decision. Not to mention, I needed to be on time to work in the morning, not a second late. I wasn’t about to let my actions jeopardize my future. What the hell happened to I need to set an example?
I mentally scoffed. Who was I kidding? My reasons were shot to hell the second he sat down and started talking, offering his undivided attention.
“Hey,” he said softly in that deep raspy voice, all the while toying with the waist of my skirt, causing the tingles to heighten. “No pressure. And if you’ve changed your mind—”
“No.” I shook my head almost frantically, my nipples puckering from his touch alone. “No. It’s okay. I’d love to see where you live.” Really? You want to see where he lives.
“I’m just over in Buckhead Heights.”
It didn’t surprise me that he lived in such an affluent part of the city. But just hearing the name Buckhead Heights had me thinking I was way in over my head.
Levi gave me one of those lopsided smirks as he stepped closer, his muscular body crowding me against the side of my car. “It’s just a house,” he answered and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “The gate code is: two one six nine.” He brushed his fingertips along the column of my throat, painstakingly slow down the length of my arm, causing a slow burn in its wake. Every touch was gentle, lacking urgency, which in turn had me doubting his rumored womanizer status. He may be labeled as a player, fueling the gossip mill as a man used to bedding a woman and not thinking twice about his actions, but in that moment and in my space, he gave off the impression that he was at the very least considerate.
Levi linked our fingers, stroking his thumb along the side of mine and whispered, “How about you get in your car?” I closed my eyes as his deep, warm voice slowly lured me in. “I’ll get in my truck . . . and if you decide you want to follow me home . . .”
CHAPTER SEVEN
&
nbsp; Levi
“Do you mind if I use your restroom?”
“First door on your right.” I pointed down the hall and purposely waited until she turned the corner. I needed just one more glance at those legs and the sway in her hips. The second we locked eyes this evening, I knew I needed her in my bed. The pull was magnetic—her warm, ocean-blue eyes alluring. And that smile. Well, let’s just say that’s what gave me the courage to invite her back to my place.
On my way to the kitchen, I stopped in front of the stereo and put some music on, filling the quiet and heightening the mood. By the time I made it back with two beers in hand, I found Rowan standing in front of the mantel, examining the few pictures of my family I had displayed.
From the sound of my footsteps on the hardwood, she looked over her shoulder and I could see the questions in her eyes. She pointed to one of my favorite pictures and complimented, “Adorable family.”
“Thank you. That’s my sister, Addilyn, and her twins, Mason and Ethan. Her husband’s brother and I used to play ball together in high school.”
“How old are they?” She pointed to the twins.
“Year and a half.”
“And your sister’s brother-in-law, he never went pro?”
“Nope. He worked for his father’s construction company before recently taking it over with my brother-in-law. It’s too bad though, he was a star player.”
“Do you have any other siblings?”
“No, it’s just me and Addie. What about you?”
“Just a younger sister, Gabriella.” Rowan smiled shyly and continued on, “And these must be your parents.” She pointed to a picture of my mom and dad, head-to-toe in Atlanta Bucks gear, showing their support for the team at one of my home games last season. “You have your mom’s eyes and your sister has your dad’s.”
Her observation was correct. Other than my brown eyes matching my mom and Addie’s blue matching Dad’s, I was the spitting image of the man, while Addie was lucky to have Mom’s perfect skin and overall beauty.
“We do,” I answered casually and handed her the bottle, which she took willingly.
She looked at the few other photos I had framed and commented, “You have a beautiful family.”
“Thank you.”
She stepped away from the mantel and I gave her a minute to make herself comfortable. There was nothing about tonight I wanted to rush.
“And your home . . . it’s beautiful and homey.”
“Thanks.” Her perusal was spot on, pointing out the enormous flat-screen television mounted opposite the buckskin leather couches. Comfort was of the utmost importance, even if it was sleek and neat and a little on the grander side. Aside from the sparse sports memorabilia scattered throughout the room, there wasn’t too much else of my personal life on display.
“Best investment I ever made.”
“Unless the economy takes a nosedive.”
“True, but hopefully it won’t.” I took her hand in mine and led her to the loveseat, not wanting to waste another minute.
“So, tell me more about you. More about what it is that you do,” I asked, truly interested, wanting to learn a few things about her, make her feel like a lady and not so much as a notch on my bat. Even if this was just two people physically attracted to one another looking for a good time, I was raised to be a gentleman and her having beauty and brains was a fucking turn-on like no other. “Have you been in the field long?”
“Six years, not including four summer internships.”
“Impressive.” I took a swig from my bottle, examining her curiously. She didn’t fit the nerdy stereotype. She was the complete opposite, actually. Modeling or fashion design would have been more plausible. She had the look for it. “Not to sound sexist or anything, but engineering seems more of a male profession. What made you want to go into the field?”
“It is—or was.” She shrugged. “But becoming more and more popular among females as schools integrate STEM programs,” she explained reasonably, not the least bit offended and offered me an easy smile. “One of my high school teachers introduced me to the idea after seeing how well I did in math and science. I got a taste of it and never wanted to pursue anything else.”
“Nice.”
Rowan was a change of pace from the women I was used to. The whole beauty and brains quality was hard to come by, and I was enjoying her company. More than I expected to, actually.
“What exactly is STEM?” I had an idea, having heard of it, but wanted to hear her explain.
“Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math.”
I nodded in understanding and reached for her hand. I linked our fingers together, wanting to have some kind of physical connection. I had learned that soft touches were highly arousing and the kind of simple foreplay some women enjoyed. My theories were confirmed when her breath hitched and she released it on a slow inaudible sigh, her focus remaining on our joined hands.
Sitting there, her soft hand in mine, letting the silence fall around us, I offered her a moment to work out in her head just exactly what she was doing at my place. Clearly letting on that she wasn’t the typical one-night stand woman.
And I respected that.
Should I have been worried? Probably, but I wasn’t going to jeopardize spending the night with her by worrying if she had any expectations. Not tonight.
Masking her expression, she redirected her gaze out the floor-to-ceiling white-paned windows, studying the night sky while I studied her profile. Temptation hammered into me as my eyes homed in on the soft skin at the junction of her shoulder and neck. The urge to suck her soft, creamy flesh and lay her down accelerated through me.
“I forgot how beautiful the city is at night—with all the lights,” she noted, lost in a trance as she stood and made her way to the window.
As I watched her watching the city, something in my chest shifted, and I wasn’t sure if I welcomed the foreign feeling or not. Ignoring the shift, I rose to my feet and stood, hovering a foot behind her. On clear nights like tonight, the lights could be hypnotic if you allowed it. The weight of the world seemed to momentarily disappear. I’d had my fair share of revelations from that very spot.
But what left me hard and dizzy was the closeness of our bodies, the faint smell of her skin, paired with the dull scent of her shampoo. I had just met this woman and already I wanted to explore. See if there was more to her than just a physical connection. But the more I thought about it, the more I came to realize more was something I didn’t do.
Not after the shit Madison pulled.
So why the hell am I thinking and feeling these things?
Ignoring my straying thoughts, I inched closer and when the sound of her breath hitching died on her lips, I snaked my arm around her waist and slowly pulled her back to me. Her warm softness made my hard firmness want to haul her pretty ass upstairs and have my way with her, to explore every inch of her perfect body and make her come a hundred times only to do it all over again.
On second thought, I let my hands roam lower, testing her limits, seeing how far she was willing to go—to let me go. Would she push if I pulled? Run if I chased?
With other women, there was never a need for much foreplay. We would have gone straight upstairs and been naked and fucking in a matter of minutes. But something about Rowan told me to take my time, that I would be glad I did.
Sneaking a finger under the strap of her blouse, I slid it to the edge of her shoulder and pressed my lips against her soft skin, trailing the length of her collarbone along the column of her neck. Her reaction to my touch urged me forward. The way her body shivered. The soft whimpers made me forget to take my time. To appreciate her.
Through the reflection in the glass, it was obvious her nipples had hardened, pushing against her top. The rise and fall of her chest signaled her breathing had become labored, and lust was a dead giveaway in the deep color of blue her eyes had shaded to.
She turned around, her back to the twinkling lights of the Atla
nta skyline, and I couldn’t hold back any longer.
The step I took to erase the foot of distance, I took with purpose, my hard cock making it a bit of a challenge. Just the mere presence of her in my space caused all kinds of weird things to short circuit within me. What the fuck? This never happened before.
“Rowan.” I gripped both her hips.
She licked her lips, took a deep breath, and sucked on her bottom lip in response. “Hmm.”
“What do you want, baby?”
Eyes completely clouded with lust, she sighed, “You.”
“Well, fuck,” I groaned.
“And that . . .”
I should’ve been concerned with her answer. Weren’t they one and the same? I wasn’t sure, but then again, I wasn’t going to take the chance on finding out. Not before I was balls deep and fucking until we both got our fill.
I curled my hand around the back of her neck while my hips pinned her against the glass and crashed my mouth on hers. Our tongues tangled. Slow and fast. Soft and hard. Sensual.
Until kissing wasn’t enough.
I wanted her at my mercy.
“Rowan, I want you.” Holding both her hands by the wrists loosely above her head, my free hand wandered under and up her skirt and around to her ass.
“I want you too,” she sighed, her head lolling to the side and eyes fluttering shut. A halo of soft waves dancing against the glass made her look angelic—sinful. Perfect.
I shoved her skirt to her waist. Her ass cheeks pressed against the glass for the entire city to see, although they couldn’t, thanks to the night privacy tint, not that I’d knowingly let that happen to begin with. Then I reached into the front of her panties and traced the seam of her pussy. She was hot—and soaking wet.
“How do you want it?” I palmed her mound and slid one, then two fingers in her. Teasing. Hitting that perfect spot. Manipulating her pleasure forward. “Fuck, you’re hot.” I reached down and bit her nipple through her blouse. Her body trembled, she gasped and then moaned. My balls tingled and my cock throbbed, begging to be buried deep inside of her.
Top Notch (Man on Top Book 1) Page 4
